Desting Turns on the Radio

directed by Jack Baran

starring Dylan McDermott, Nancy Travis,

Quentin Tarrantino

Jack Baran, director of "Destiny Turns on the Radio," has never directed a movie before. If he decides to direct another, he needs to choose a better script. This one, written by Robert Ramsey and Matthew Stone, is a loser. The writers have concentrated far more on its strangeness than on developing its many good ideas.

The movie opens with escaped convict Julian Goddard (Dylan McDermott) wandering the desert, when Johnny Destiny, driving a 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner, stops and offers him a lift. Destiny (Quentin Tarrantino) brings Goddard to Las Vegas where Goddard left his former love, Lucille (Nancy Travis), and his share of the money from the bank robbery for which he was incarcerated.

Harry Thoreau (James LeGros), Julian's partner in the bank job, has been waiting at the Marilyn Motel, where the rooms all bear names of Ms. Monroe's films. Julian wants to take his money and his girl and be on his way, but there are, as Harry points out, two major problems with that plan. The first is that Lucille has taken up with Tuerto (James Belushi), a ball-scratching casino-owner and thug. The second is that "the money the weirdness is gone." And here is where the weirdness starts.

When Julian asks for an explanation of how Harry could have lost the money, Harry tells the story of the night they returned from robbing the bank. Lucille was not in her room at the Marilyn Motel, and Julian went to look for her. He was subsequently arrested. While Harry was waiting for him to return, a bolt of lighting hit the roof of the motel, the swimming pool started to glow, and a naked man rose out of the water, shocked Harry into unconsciousness and took the money. This outlandish story turns out to be true, and the naked man turns out to be Johnny Destiny. And, since that night, Harry has been waiting for Destiny's return with a large pistol and a pair of "non-conductive," rubber-soled boots.

Lucille has been waiting too, singing in nightclubs, always talking about leaving Las Vegas and never being able to do it. Finally, her manager, the funniest character in the movie, (played excellently by David Cross) gets her an audition with record-company hot-shot Vine Vidivici. Instead of coming, seeing and conquering, Vinnie comes to Vegas and we see him rub his ass.

The movie aspires to some ambitious symbolism, but falls way short. Harry Thoreau lives next to a mythic pool, while Henry Thoreau lived next to a mythic pond, but this is left just a gimmick. Much of the movie takes place at the Marilyn Motel. The controversy surrounding Monroe's life and death is supposed to echo the theme of extraordinary events. The film's script cripples any possibly interesting manifestation of this potentially interesting idea.

Vegas is the perfect setting for a story of destiny and magic. Day and night are indistinguishable inside a casino, and after a certain point, magic (in the form of luck) is the only way to win at gambling. Johnny (big-D) Destiny is, as Harry puts it, a "small-g, god" of luck, and is therefore the small-g, god of Las Vegas. Not only does he controls who enters and who leaves, and all they do while they stay there. We never see anyone come or go who is not driven in by Destiny or transported out by his pool. Even Vidivici, the record producer, must hitch a ride, because he has no car. When a relationship starts or ends or succeeds, it is always because Destiny has allowed or caused it to happen. These ideas are intriguing, but, like Las Vegas itself, the script that contains them is all promise, all show and no substance.

When a script of unrealized potential is coupled with an inexperienced director, the actor have their work cut out for them. For the most part in this film, they do admirably well. McDermott is an impossible position, being on-screen for most of the movie and doing the same things over, and over but he gets a lot of mileage from the emotional intensity that worked for him as Clint Eastwood's partner in "In the Line of Fire."

Tarrantino knows that he is not as good an actor as he is a writer or director. He is, however, a personality, and he comes to the movie with a reputation for hipness (his nervous, goofy performance at the Academy Awards notwithstanding). And hip is all he need be, for his character requires minimal acting ability and much ability to draw attention. Quentin Tarrantino, despite some child-like excitability, draws our attention because we know him, and we know that he could have written this movie better.

Nancy Travis (of "The Vanishing" and "So I Married an Axe Murderer") is the highlight of the film, and this performance should have cemented her position as a sexy, talented female star. But it won't, because the movie is just no good. Both she and Traction have far too much talent in their respective areas to be involved with this film.

The writers do not do justice to their good ideas, leaving them underdeveloped and unused. The final product does no justice to anyone, actors, director, or the writers whose script seems to have gotten away from them. "Destiny Turns on the Radio" spells bad luck for everyone.